


It's Been A Little Hard (I've Been A Little Tired)

by Bannedd567



Series: Tales of Etheria [5]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Also no beta 'cause fuck that, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It's All About Touching With These Two, Just give them hugs and therapy, POV Adora (She-Ra), Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bannedd567/pseuds/Bannedd567
Summary: "How is she supposed to slow down? How is she supposed to take a break and pretend everything’s fine when Etheria is counting on her? Adora’s sworn to protect her home and her friends, she can’t possibly let everyone down when they need her the most. Be it raising walls, repairing bridges, losing sleep over trade contracts or fighting rogue Horde factions; no matter what, if she can help, Adora will take it."
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Tales of Etheria [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809997
Comments: 35
Kudos: 470





	It's Been A Little Hard (I've Been A Little Tired)

**Author's Note:**

> I just wish I could give these kids a hug.
> 
> Title taken from [lovelytheband - maybe, i'm afraid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FJW8xILQAY&list=PLstE47nCqGFOROAIcEjevSipTz9uG43OH&index=73&t=0s)

The Whispering Woods are quieter than what Adora has become used to these days. Which is strange, since with the unleashing of Etheria’s locked magic potential, if anything, she’d have expected them to frolic with life, giant boars and giant bugs and giant-whatever running through the countless new species of plants and trees that had begun to grow again.

But the small clearing that she found, with nothing but little flowers growing here and there and a couple of rocks that were perfect for her to organise her things on and do some work, is silent. It’s peaceful, and the sun is shining just right, warm enough that Adora’s jacket has been long forgotten. The rock casts a cool shade that helps to fight off the doze-inducing summer heat.

Adora blinks, realising she’s been reading the same line for the past five minutes. She groans, pushing the heels of her palms into her eyes before sliding her fingers in her hair and tugging. Blonde strands are falling out of her ponytail, messed up by the mad dash she had made for the Woods earlier that morning, and she hadn’t bothered redoing it once she actually stopped.

_Adora, please! Just eat something and then you can work, you can’t keep doing this to yourself!_

_Look, I didn’t wanna point it out but... those bags under your eyes? When was the last time you slept?_

_Put down those papers, really, it’s fine if you relax for just a minute._

Adora sighs, flopping back on the soft grass and looking up at the sky. Sneaking away from her best friends had been... maybe not the best of decisions. She was still sprinting when she’d started to feel a tell-tale buzz in her ear: Swift Wind was trying to talk to her through their bond, no doubt pestered by Glimmer and Bow on her whereabouts, and she had promptly shut down the connection. It’s going to take many apples and flights and talks about horse rights to make up for it, she’s sure, but she can deal with it when the time comes.

She knows Bow and Glimmer only mean well, that they’re worried about her well-being and want her to live like any other girl, and that’s exactly the problem. Adora is not ordinary. She’s... she’s _She-Ra._ Putting the planet’s sake before anything else comes with the job description.

How is she supposed to slow down? How is she supposed to take a break and pretend everything’s fine when Etheria is counting on her? Adora’s sworn to protect her home and her friends, she can’t possibly let everyone down when they need her the most. Be it raising walls, repairing bridges, losing sleep over trade contracts or fighting rogue Horde factions; no matter what, if she can help, Adora will take it.

To think that the first few days had been fine. Adora hadn’t needed the healers to tell her to get some rest. She could _feel_ the fatigue running through body as deep as it could go, and once they’d finally made it to Bright Moon she had excused herself, took a shower, grabbed something to eat, and proceeded to take a nap that lasted about twenty-four hours straight. The warm, pliant, and oh so very _incredible_ presence of Catra, in her (their) room, tucked into her side, soft snores rolling out of her as she slept had certainly helped. The fact that she was finally back home instead of sleeping on the ground in a tent was just an added bonus.

They had slept in morning after morning, and spent hours lazing around in her (their) bed, sharing stories and re-learning their way around each other after the most recent development of their relationship. They’d stuck to it no matter how difficult opening up sometimes turned out to be, and every day felt new and exciting even when it was spent doing nothing but showing Catra around, having meals with Bow and Glimmer and, well... coming to terms with how pathetically touch starved she is.

It’s exhilarating, how simply brushing her lips to Catra’s sends a rush of warmth through her body even stronger than She-Ra’s magic, like something holy is flowing through her veins, brighter and warmer than a star. Whenever they touch it’s not close enough. Whenever they kiss Adora feels her heart beat so quickly that she’s scared it might pop out of her chest. She yearns and yearns for Catra, every minute part of her, and the only consolation to that craving is that her girlfriend seems to be on her very same page.

But then reality had crashed back into their lives. There were people to reassure, cities to rebuild, kingdoms to reclaim. Adora was good at it, She-Ra even better, especially when it came to the heavy lifting and the healing. Some of the magic-infused vegetation that had started to grow back had seriously damaged buildings, not to mention the giant fauna had to be reigned in before it could cause more accidental problems to deal with. It’s been a little over three months since the end of the war, and they have yet to slow down.

The last week (ten days and six hours, her mind helpfully supplies, with every minute feeling like a lifetime) has been... the worst.

Catra immediately volunteered to help rebuilding Salineas from the ground up after the end of the war, and she was packing her bags the second Mermista, still understandably sour, allowed her free access to the kingdom. Adora had started missing her before she even left, and she had almost made Catra miss her ride because she had wrapped her up in her arms on the castle’s stairs and kissed her until their lips went numb, and Catra’d had to wrench herself away, cooing softly at Adora’s pout with the promise to be back as soon as possible.

It’s not like she’s not happy for Catra. In fact, Adora is so proud of her it’s hard not to automatically grin like an idiot when she thinks about how much she’s improving every single day. They figured that the brief distance, painful as it may be, could do them good, and help them learn how to deal better with being apart from each other. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t make her miserable, and closing their video-calls at night takes more willpower than she’d like to admit. Catra always looks torn when the time comes as well, and Adora can’t help wishing she could just extend a hand through the screen and pinch her cheeks until she’s rewarded with one of those exasperated, loving smiles of hers.

So yeah. Everything is great. And it also sucks, very, very much so.

Adora swings her legs forward to sit up, blowing stray blonde locks out of her vision. She hasn’t felt the muffled buzz that signals Swiftie is trying to find her in a while now. It’s better this way. Glimmer had mentioned needing his help to coordinate the work of the packhorses a couple of days before, and he’d jumped at the proposal right away. She couldn't stand to take time off their schedule to deal with her sorry self, she's just gonna go back once she's done with these stupid pile of documents. 

“So, this is where you holed up to.”

Adora yelps, startled, but she doesn’t have the time to turn around that a warm body is already sprawled over her back. Slender arms circle her neck as hands slide under the loose hem of her shirt to palm at her collarbones, clawed fingertips grazing her skin just enough to draw a shiver. A nose digs in her nape, nuzzling in greeting, before feather-light lips brush under Adora’s ear, right where her jaw begins.

It’s almost pathetic, how boneless Adora turns the instant her body recognises the touch. She lets her head roll back against a lean shoulder and turns a little, meeting calm, mismatched eyes and the ghost of a smile. Catra peers at her, head tilted cutely to the side, and Adora feels her heart skip a beat at the mere sight of her. “Hey, Adora.”

Adora gapes, feeling a wave of unadulterated relief wash over her. “... welcome back,” she manages at last, stunned, blinking rapidly when her eyes start to prickle without warning. There’s a nagging feeling bubbling in the depths of her chest and she can’t help but feel shame build up under Catra’s worried, knowing gaze. Something heavy falls on her lap and Adora’s lips tilt up automatically as Melog’s head becomes visible, as if sensing her distress, looking up at her with expectant eyes. She curls her fingers under their chin and it just makes them slump further into her.”Did Bow and Glimmer send you?”

Catra shakes her head, rolling back on her hunches before moving away. She settles by Adora’s side, pressed up against her shoulder, and draws her legs to her chest, chin comfortably perched on her knees and just. Looks at her. The insistence of it makes Adora blush.

“Nah, but I saw them talking your horse’s ear off and they kept saying your name. I figured you’d be doing something stupid, or heroic, or both, and came looking for you,” she says, her light tone making it clear she’s just teasing. “Melog helped, they said they could sense your energy or something. I don’t know, I don’t speak magic.”

Adora chuckles, scratching a bit harder behind Melog’s ear. They mewl, pleased, and lean further against Adora’s hand so eagerly that they remind her distinctly of their master. "And you decided to rat me out just like that? C’mon, Melog, I thought we were buddies.”

Melog doesn’t make a sound, just sags a bit more into her lap. She doesn’t notice Catra rummaging into a bag by her side until a small package is thrust under her nose. “You hungry?” Catra asks, hand so close to Adora’s face that she goes cross-eyed. She realises, in that precise moment, that she hasn’t eaten since dinner the night before (and even that had been, what, a couple of slices of meat and some grilled veggies? Literal light years from the amount of food she’s used to wolf down) as she tried to memorise a plan to organise food redistribution to the northern region. “You look like you could use a pick me up.“

“... Thanks.” She gingerly grabs the wrap and tears off the paper around it. A sandwich. The bread is slightly toasted, with the crust cut off, and has ham, cheese and tomatoes inside. One of her favourites. Adora lifts her head and finds Catra already looking at her, eyes so fond and _loving,_ her tail thumping rhythmically on the grass behind them. She can feel her own face soften as her chest fills to the brim with affection. “What about you, though?”

Catra waves her hand dismissively. “I had mine on the way here. Eat up, I’ll be fine.”

Adora’s mouth is watering already, and she wastes no more time digging in. “Y’didn’t have to come looking for me,” she mumbles around a big bite. “You just came back, you could’ve stayed in the castle to get some rest.” 

Catra doesn’t answer. Adora knows her eyes are trailing over the papers laid in front of them, and she quickly scarves down what remains of her sandwich before wiping her fingers on the grass so she doesn’t stain the documents. Not knowing what to do, she picks one up with the hand not currently petting Melog. Her eyes are skimming up and down, barely registering the words, when Catra’s smooth voice reaches her ears again. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Adora says, and it’s too quick, obviously fake. She feels Catra’s tail tapping against her back and her hand curls into the paper, knuckles white from the pressure. Melog makes a soft, questioning noise and Adora exhales, long and heavy, bringing her palm in front of her eyes. “I’m sorry, I... I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Catra remains silent, clearly waiting for Adora to elaborate. When that doesn’t happen, she brings her hands over Adora’s, gently prying her fingers apart to take the document for herself. Her eyes run over the words, briefly. “These are the reports you guys have been discussing, right?”

Adora nods distractedly, closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath. She tries to clear her mind and concentrate, taking in each sensation at a time. Melog’s head in her lap, Catra’s warm fur against her skin. Good things, comforting things. Her pulse doesn’t seem to care, and keeps hammering in her ears.

“Erelandia needs urgent replacements for three quarters of the houses, and their bridge has been severely damaged, making it impossible to access with the requested food supplies,” she says off the top of her head. She keeps looking straight ahead, knowing the contents of those reports by heart. “Point is, Elberon, Rosetown and Alwyn need manpower, too, and while they’re smaller they are some of our most prolific food distributors, since their crops came out mostly unharmed, but we can’t afford to play favourites...”

She’s starting to slip, she can tell, but she can’t stop it. “And we’re supposed to meet later, to discuss how to organise the construction works in the Fright Zone but-but I haven’t even come up with a solution of my own and it’s just a couple of hours from now and—“

“Adora.” Catra’s voice is very quiet, almost a whisper in fact, and if they weren’t sitting so close, Adora doubts she could have heard her. Long, slender fingers wrap around her wrist in a light grip. They slide down, and Adora lets her fist uncurl for their palms to align and close around each other. Stars, Adora missed her like a lost limb. “This isn’t just about the relief efforts, right?”

Adora almost wants to laugh at how easy she’s being read. She’s never felt so pathetic. “Ever since the war ended it’s like... I feel like I’ve been living in a dream.“ She clutches her shirt above her heart, gulps to fight the sick feeling spreading down her throat. “All our friends are fine, the restorations are going great, everyone is working so hard and they’re so happy and... and I have you with me. It’s literally all I ever wanted.”

Catra’s hand flexes in hers, her thumb brushing softly the outside of Adora’s palm in a silent show of mutual appreciation. Adora clings to it to keep herself focused.

“But I have this feeling like... like the second I stop, and breathe, and just let myself rest, something awful is going to happen and take away this happiness from me and I cannot let that happen, not again, I-I’m--” Adora is struggling to keep herself from crying. She can feel her eyes welling up and sinks her teeth into her lip, so hard she may as well be drawing blood. “I know I’m being difficult, and I _know_ Bow and Glimmer are right, but... I-I can’t...” She breathes in and out, quick, heavy, her head hanging low. “They don’t get it....”

That’s not all there is to it, but Adora simply cannot express it any other way. She’d give her life for Bow and Glimmer, and even if they don’t get some parts of her, she doesn’t hold it against them. It’s only natural, they grew up worlds apart after all. It’s not like they could have even noticed during the war, _everyone_ had been stressed out of their minds.

Adora is also a creature of habit like no others. She has to exhaust herself before she can even begin to consider taking a break, it’s always been like this. The only one that really knows it is Catra, who has been reduced to her wits’ ends too many times to count by Adora refusing to get some rest when they were cadets, and she’s learned to work around it. Back then, they both could bring the other into a state of calm like it was a second nature. In the cold, dark world of the Fright Zone, the only one they’d ever known, they had found safety in each other.

The times she couldn’t sit still and would bite her nails to the point they bled, Catra offered to spar and dragged her into play fights until Adora was too tired and deliriously giddy to stay awake. Whenever rain fell heavy over the Fright Zone, the thunder crackling – and no matter how many times Catra tells her it wasn’t her fault, Adora curses herself everyday for not doing... she doesn’t know what exactly, but something, _anything_ _more_ \- like Shadow Weaver’s lightning strikes, and Catra ran away to hide in the storage rooms, Adora would find her, and hold her close, and scratch softly behind her ears until her muscles unlocked, breathing deep and even into Adora’s neck.

Something creeps in her line of vision from the corner of her eye before a gentle pressure coaxes her to lean to the side. She finds herself with her face nestled under Catra’s chin, delicate fingertips on her nape, firm but not insistent. The front of Catra’s shirt grows humid, and Adora realises, with a dull sense of surprise, that tears are streaming down her face at a steady pace. The warmth that encompasses her then, gentle like a caress, makes a sob rip out of her chest. And another. One more, and Adora is crying, uncontrollably.

_“I’m so tired...”_

It’s such a pathetic whimper, but Adora can’t stop it. So, she doesn’t. She lets herself be cradled, tries to make herself small in the comfort Catra’s arms provide. She cries and cries, so much that at some point no sound comes out of her aching throat, until her tears run out and she’s left with a numb, if peaceful, feeling in her bones. She hears Catra’s heartbeat, feels the rising motion of her chest as she breathes slowly, the soft puff of air of every exhale.

“Can I tell you how my days in Salineas have been?” Catra whispers, out of nowhere, voice slightly strained. Adora does a double take, but pushes herself back a little to face her more directly, curious to see where this is going.

“So, from the get go, I could tell half the people there wanted to see me drown, and the other half would probably have turned the other way if that had actually happened,” Catra begins, as if she were commenting on the weather. “But Sea Hawk vouched for me in front of everyone, and then Mermista grunted, which I guess is her way of agreeing? Anyway, we started working immediately after that, and there wasn’t much time to dwell on things.”

Adora goes through a rapid series of emotions. There’s indignation, then some kind of understanding, then indignation again (because Catra _is trying,_ damn it why can’t they see that?) _,_ and finally gratitude for her friends’ support.

“As the days went on, they actually started to understand that I meant no harm, and I seriously wanted to help. Hell, before I left Mermista actually _said_ ‘bye’. I’m pretty sure she still doesn’t like me, but we’re on speaking terms at least, right?” Catra waits for Adora to confirm with a nod, and continues. “But no matter what I did, how hard I worked, the whole time I felt... wrong.”

Catra pauses to lick her lips, her eyes shifting quickly from side to side. Adora stops holding back for a moment and leans in, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. Catra turns slightly, smiling at her with gratitude, and takes a deep lungful of air.

“There’s this part of my brain that keeps telling me that I don’t deserve any of this. Not peace, not friends, not you and, most of all, not forgiveness. All the love thrown my way, I... I keep expecting it to disappear. That I’m just going to snap one day, hurting everyone until I end up like—“

Catra doesn’t finish, doesn't have to.

The sheer number of times they’d each woken up in the middle of the night to find the other sitting up in their bed, shaking and suppressing laboured breaths, blur all together. Nightmares sobbed brokenly in the dark of the night, the shadows of their past tormenting them both to no end. It had taken Catra weeks to even begin to accept the fact that most of the Rebellion, Bow and Glimmer, most of all Adora herself, had already forgiven her. She kept pushing their offered comfort away and worked herself to the bone for hours on end in a desperate search for punishment. 

One day, after she'd passed out under the midday heat, Adora had told her, in no uncertain terms, that it wasn't her call to decide for others, that she could keep rejecting people, or work hard until she felt like she earned their love, but not to the point of destroying herself in the process.

Catra had listened.

The sleepless nights had given them time to confront those demons, at least, coming clean about all that had happened between them. The good, the bad, the hurt, the nearly unforgivable. However painful and uncomfortable those memories were, talking them through had made Adora feel lighter than she had in years, not to mention closer to Catra than ever before.

Every dawn had found them fast asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms so tightly getting out of bed was a challenge in and on itself. They honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Catra breathes, once, twice, and when she talks again her voice is steady. “But I also know that I’m trying. I did good things, and I will keep doing them, and I will never stop trying. And neither will you, because you’re just that stubborn, and good, and you’re doing so well.” She holds Adora’s gaze as she says this, so earnest and believing that Adora’s eyes well up without her noticing. “It’s slow, and it hurts, and it sucks, and you’re going to want to give up a thousand times . But it’s okay. You’ve always had the weight of the world on your shoulders and now you’re free to just be you, of course it’s scary. You can’t expect to clear miles with a single bound, that’s just unrealistic.”

Adora can’t help but chuckle at that last part, nothing but pride and gratitude brewing in her chest at how far Catra has come. “Let me guess,” she says, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Perfuma?”

Catra snorts softly, bumping their shoulders. “You know it’s helpful when even I start to believe in her spiritual mumbo-jumbo. Meditation's been helping me a lot I think.”

“I should probably ask her if she knows someone I could talk to,” Adora muses, nudging Catra back just as gently and leaning more against her. “I never did before because... you know, I thought I wouldn't need it. And also...“

“You didn’t want to bother her,” Catra supplies, softly. When Adora nods, a stray tear trailing down her face, she gives her hand a squeeze in understanding. “I think my point in all of this is, to make the understatement of the century: we’re messed up, Adora. And it’s gonna take us a lot of time to break free from our patterns. But you're enough, you always have been. And until that enters your stupid brain, you'll have Sparkles, Arrow Boy and the entire Alliance to remind you. And you have me. I’ve got you, remember?“ 

“You have me, too. And you’re _nothing_ like her.” Adora replies, immediately, but Catra’s smile is dim as her eyes fall to the ground. Adora places her palm over their joined hands, waiting patiently until she lifts her head again. “Catra, I’m serious. You love and care, so much, but nobody ever saw that and they hurt you, _I_ —“ she doesn’t say ‘ _I hurt you’,_ the words dying in her throat before they can even bubble up, but from the way Catra stiffens Adora knows her message was clear. She rubs her thumb over the back of Catra's palm, a muted apology for what's already been forgiven, but Catra's crushed expression from that day in Thaymor is carved permanently in Adora's memory. Never again. She'll never hurt her again. “Shadow Weaver? She was selfish, and that’s it. No space in her heart except for herself. You were never like her.”

Catra chuckles, brief and humourless, before reaching up to smooth the worried crease between Adora’s eyebrows and wipe away her tears. “You make it so easy to believe that. When did this pep talk turn into you comforting me, huh?” 

Adora brings their joined fingers to her face, placing a gentle kiss on Catra’s knuckles. “We look out for each other.”

Catra exhales, shakily, and her smile turns brighter. “We do, don’t we?” She leans more into Adora’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. Lips, light and soft, brush briefly above her pulse point. “Now, don’t worry too much about the meeting. You’re smart, it will come to you. And for the rest, one day at a time. You can do it.”

It gets... surprisingly easier to breathe after that. Adora can feel it in the slow, measured rise and fall o her chest. Her vision clears, bit by bit, and that crushing feeling in her lungs is overcome by a sudden, wonderful sensation of tranquillity. She basks in Catra’s warmth and the quiet rhythm of her breathing, lets them ground her in the moment. Melog yawns, lazy and wide, and their ears flick for a moment as they bump their snout against Adora’s stomach. They get up and shake their mane, quietly stalking away to go paw at the grass. 

“You know, maybe we should tell Netossa to add it to the weaknesses list. Adora: bad actress, jealous of She-Ra’s hair, Catra, too deep in her own stupid head,” she jokes, turning to look at Catra and expecting to find her laughing and shaking her head at how dumb she’s being. Instead, the sight she finds has her eyebrow cocking with curiosity.

Catra is smirking at her, the same kind of expression she used to make when she was about to illustrate to Adora how they’d prank Kyle next. It’s a face that promises nothing but trouble and mischief. Adora kind of missed it. She also kind of dreads it, since it’s directed at her now.

“Luckily for you, I know how to knock some sense into that thick skull.”

“What are you talk- _woah_!”

Before Adora can even blink, Catra grabs her by the collar of her shirt and pulls her until they’re wrestling around in the tall grass. Adora sputters, breath knocked out of her lungs as Catra sits comfortably on her stomach, arms crossed, sporting a bright, fanged grin and laughing at Adora’s visible stupor. She pokes Adora’s forehead with her claw, sticks out her tongue. “What, a couple of weeks and you’re already going soft on me?”

Oh.

Adora feels a spark of fire sizzle up in her chest and blows a wayward lock of hair out of her eyes. She bristles, planting her heels in the soft soil to brace herself, never one to back down from an obvious challenge. Especially if it’s Catra.

_Game on._

She nudges Catra’s hand away with a shake of her head and clasps her palms on Catra’s waist, flipping them with a buck of her hips. “Aha!” she grins, triumphant, but her smile slowly fades to make way for quiet awe. Adora breathes once, twice, and for the first time since Catra arrived, _really_ lets herself look at her girlfriend.

Catra is splayed underneath her with her arms spread wide, head thrown back as she laughs freely. She’s wearing Adora’s old compression shirt, the one that she shredded as soon as she got her hands on it. It falls off her shoulders just so, exposing the dark straps of a tank top, and her belly is out on display. Adora loves to run her hand through the short, impossibly soft fur there, to trace the hard lines of Catra’s lean muscles with her fingertips in a way that always has Catra purring a little louder than usual. Her hair is messy, looking almost tawny in the bright light of the afternoon, and strands of it are falling in front of her eyes, making Adora’s fingers itch with the need to push them back.

Adora realises, belatedly, that she’s basically ogling. What she doesn’t realise, too busy willing the crimson blush on her face to subdue, is that said ogling is leaving her completely open.

A knee knocks against her hip and she’s once again on her back. Catra is quick, this time, and grabs both of Adora’s wrists to pin them above her head in a fluid motion. She leans in, slow and deliberate, her back arching in a way that is going to haunt Adora for days to come, if not months. She’s close enough that Adora could easily count each and every freckle on her stupidly gorgeous face. Close enough that the pure joy and adoration in her eyes feel almost palpable.

Adora will never, _ever_ get tired of looking at her.

Adora’s mind buzzes as Catra descends on her, warm breath fanning against her ear. She can feel her mouth curve into a sly smile, right before she licks her lips and whispers: “Bet you can’t catch me.”

Adora opens her eyes (when did she close them again?) and her hands jerk in a sloppy attempt at a grab, but Catra is already running away, Melog hot on her tail, her laughter echoing behind her. Adora jumps up and cuts to the chase without missing a beat. “You cheater, come back here!”

Catra is lightning quick, but Adora keeps up with her easily, cutting straight through the bushes while her girlfriend shows off in acrobatics, jumping from branch to branch. She pushes harder, determined to not lose Catra for even a second, whatever it takes. Her lungs burn with the effort, and she fights the urge to laugh, least she wastes precious oxygen.

She feels so _alive_.

Adora shields her face with her arms as she bursts through a thicker web of branches and leaves, but when she looks up next, there’s no sight of Catra. She frowns, glancing around without stopping, and tries to pay attention for movements in the tree tops, the rustling of leaves or the swishing motion of Melog’s blue tail. But nothing.

Adora starts to slow down a bit as she turns around, eyes on the trees she already surpassed, to make sure Catra didn’t stop somewhere to pounce on her from behind. Still, she sees nothing. She groans, absolutely sure that her girlfriend is probably being cloaked by Melog, likely waiting for the exact moment to scare her, maybe appearing out of nowhere and, she doesn’t even know, hanging from a branch or something. She sighs, heavily, and spins on her heel to move on.

“Heeeeyyyy, Ad- ACK!”

When Catra appears hanging from a branch, upside down, in front of her, Adora doesn’t scream, because the sounds remains stuck and garbled in her throat. Instead, she flails and skids to a stop so abruptly that she slips on the humid moss of the underbrush. Her hand shoots out on instinct, grabbing the closest thing available, that being one of Catra’s dangling arms, and drags them both to the ground in a heap of limbs and pained grunts.

As close as they are Adora feels, more than hears, Catra’s winded groan. “Alright, I kinda asked for it, didn’t I?” she wheezes, and raises a hand to bump her knuckles on the top of Adora’s head with a chuckle. “This doesn’t count, by the way. You caught me because I stopped. You’re still the world’s slowest person.”

Adora pushes herself up on her arms, her eyes roaming over Catra’s face to look for any possible injury. Whatever remained of her ponytail decides to give up and her hair pools around her shoulders. “Are you okay?” She cups Catra’s face with one hand, trailing her thumb along her cheekbone in what she hopes is a soothing motion.

Catra hums a short, affirmative sound. She winds her arms around Adora’s neck and tugs, gently, until Adora sits up enough to give her a soft head-butt. “Never better,” she murmurs, and Adora has to bite her lip to avoid smiling like a goof when her ears pick up a familiar rumbling sound. 

She breathes in, deep and slow, and her lungs are invaded with the clean scent of Etheria’s pure air, mixed with what is unmistakably Catra. She smells of spices and grass and fresh dew. There’s also something there that reminds Adora of herself, probably because of the shirt, and that mere thought sends Adora’s already thundering heartbeat on double-time.

“Just so you know, we kind of are in the middle of magically infused woods filled with giant creatures that could eat us at any moment,” Adora muses, but makes no attempt to move. She brings her hands to Catra’s waist, pulling her in until she is sitting in her lap.

“Oh, no,” Catra drawls, and tangles one of her hands in Adora’s hair, gently scratching her scalp. Adora tilts her head back into the touch, eyes fluttering shut, and strokes her thumbs along Catra’s sides, feeling the skin there warm up even more. “A bunch of bugs against a fearsome, majestic killing machine and a magical sword lady. Whatever will we do?”

Adora snorts, and keeps giggling when Catra swats her shoulder. “Pffft, ‘majestic’? Really?”

“Shut up. Let me live.” Even with her eyes closed, she can _see_ Catra’s pout. “Look, you already get the cool sword and the energy beams, let me have this one thing.”

Adora grins softly, squinting at the light that seeps through the canopy of leaves and hits her face. “I’m still a bit hungry,” she mutters, trying to estimate the time based on the shadows around them. Her stomach chooses that exact moment to churn loudly, and she answers Catra’s laugh with a sheepish chuckle. “You think there’re some leftovers? That sandwich was really nice.”

Catra’s ears perk up at that. “Let’s just head back and find out,” she offers, stroking a lock of Adora’s hair between her fingertips. She picks up the hair-tie from where it fell on the ground and gathers blonde strands in a loose, relaxed ponytail. She lets it fall over Adora’s shoulder and gives her a pat on the head. “And you could, possibly, consider taking a nap? I promise to wake you in time for the meeting with Sparkles.”

That sounds... heavenly, actually. Adora can’t remember the last time she got a full night’s sleep. And the prospect of cuddling with Catra in their bed and waking up to her could honestly make her cry.

“I’m in if you are.” Adora waits a moment to fully take in Catra’s eager smile and cute face. Then, without waiting for an answer, she stands up. At once.

Catra shrieks, grasping at Adora’s front and sputtering curses in her ear, and Adora has trouble standing upright with how hard she starts laughing. Her hands have a secure grip under Catra’s thighs, but even that doesn’t stop Catra from squirming and pawing at Adora’s face. Catra’s cheeks are so red, they remind her a bit of Melog’s mane when they’re angry.

“Your face,” Adora wheezes, twisting to get away from the hands squishing her cheeks. “That was- oh gods, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Sh-shut up! What are you doing?!” 

“Carrying you, obviously,” Adora hitches Catra a bit higher to prove her point and starts walking back where they came from. Catra squeals again, pupils wide as saucers, and her ankles lock against the small of Adora’s back. “Why, you don’t like it?”

“Absolutely not!” she yells, all raised fur and puffed out tail. Adora glances to her side, where Melog is walking silently. Their aura is still a cool blue, pink on the edges, and they’re making a face that looks quite delighted. She looks back at Catra, smile turning inevitably smug when her girlfriend refuses to meet her eye and, if anything, blushes even harder. ‘ _Knew it’._ ”A-and I’m not a princess anyway!”

“As a matter of fact, this is not a princess carry,” Adora states happily, beaming even more at the glare shot her way. She refrains from pointing out that Catra is currently pouting and looking like the cutest thing ever, least she has the unfortunate idea to climb down, and instead resolves to simply kiss the frown away. She pecks Catra’s forehead, her furrowed brow and the tip of her nose. When she pulls back, Catra chases her, and Adora bites back laugh at the muffled _‘you’re such an ass’_ grumbled against her lips.

“You look more like a kitty being cradled,” she says once they part, and it earns her another decidedly indignant peck and a warning nibble on her cheek. She can absolutely deal with it. “Sorry, sorry. You look like a fearsome, majestic killing machine being cradled.”

Catra narrows her eyes. Holding tightly on Adora, she raises herself up and swivels around, as seamlessly as breathing. Her legs bracket Adora’s hips from behind as she circles her shoulders with her arms. Adora accompanies the motion and, once Catra is settled, puts her palms under her knees to steady her. “Now we’re talking,” Catra mutters, her voice the very definition of pleased in Adora’s ear. She pats her head again, twice this time, and then theatrically points forward. “Onward, my steed, to get snacks!”

“I think you had a little too much fun in Salineas,” Adora snickers, picking up the pace. Catra is warm and light, a comfortable weight draped against her back as she idly swings her legs back and forth. “You’re starting to sound like Sea Hawk.”

Catra gasps and makes a retching sound that reminds Adora of that one time the cafeteria had served brown ration bars for an entire week, even after they inevitably became spoiled. It had been bad for everyone, but Catra and Rogelio, with their more sensitive noses, immediately got sick and spent almost all of those lunch breaks in the bathrooms.

“That was the single worst thing you’ve ever said to me,” she wails, sounding revolted. If both her arms weren’t around Adora’s neck, she’d probably be shaking her fist to the sky demanding justice, or posing with the back of her palm to her forehead. “I’m going to be haunted by this forever. Not a night shall pass that I won’t have nightmares because of it.”

“Wow,” Adora drawls, not impressed in the slightest. To her credit, she does manage to not make it sound too fond. “I never thought I’d miss how dramatic you get, but here we are.”

“Please, flattery will get you nowhere. But, this is nice, actually.” Catra climbs a bit on Adora’s back until she gets enough leverage to lean her elbow on her shoulder. She rests her chin in her palm, turning pensive. “You could make up for that terrible insult by carrying me like this all the time.” A pointed mewl comes from beside them and Catra huffs. Adora would bet she’s rolling her eyes. “No, Melog, I’m not replacing yo- oh, stop sulking already, you big goof!”

Adora chuckles, carefully stepping through a couple of larger bushes. The clearing is coming back into view, and pretty soon they’re back near the papers and maps still neatly piled on the large stone. Catra nudges Adora with her cheek, mutely asking to be let down. They take to picking up the documentation, operating in comfortable silence, and before long they’re packed and ready to return home.

“Ready to go?” Catra bats some dust off her pants, offering her hand to help Adora up. She grabs it, like she always does, and lets herself be pulled to her feet. Catra smiles and turns, starting to walk back, but Adora remains rooted in her spot.

“Catra, wait,” the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. Catra faces her, ears up and alert, a concerned tilt to her mouth. Adora hasn’t thought this far. She tries to make sense of the mess of thoughts and feelings swirling in her head, but she has so much to say that all of it feels either too much or too little at the same time. “I... before we go back, I wanted to... I just wanna say...”

_‘You’re worth more than what you can give to other people.’_

Even back then, Adora had known Mara was right. The temple merely projected parts of her subconscious, after all, everything she’d spent years burying down because it did not matter. She didn’t. Nothing did, except fighting and saving the world and making up for her mistakes by being useful. Adora hadn’t wanted to die, to be the sacrificial lamb. She wished for a life for her own, with her friends. She _wanted_ Catra, in each and every way, she wanted her so badly it hurt more than Prime’s virus running through her system.

And when she had woken up, with Catra looking at her with tears pooled in her eyes and the world falling apart around them, she’d thought that if those were to be the last moments of her life, then she could let herself be selfish, just that one time, and finally kiss the girl she’d loved since before she even understood the meaning of the word. The same girl that had loved her for just as long. Not She-Ra, not the hero, not the weapon. Adora, flawed and awkward and, apparently, enough for Catra to choose her.

Just like Bow and Glimmer chose to trust her, that day in Thaymor, or like the Princesses followed her, no sword or powers to make up for her weaknesses, without a second thought. Because to them, Adora mattered.

Catra is standing patiently in front of her, her hand clasped securely around Adora's trembling one. This is what Adora chose. She chose her friends. She chose Catra and her love. She chose to live. And she'd never go back.

It shouldn’t be this hard. They have never needed many words between the two of them, but there’s a fine line between unspoken understanding and letting feelings fester like an open wound, and if there’s someone Adora is willing to bare her heart to, no matter how much it hurts or bleeds, it’s Catra.

“Thank you.”

It’s not enough. Maybe she’ll never be able to find the right words, but she can at least begin with this. Adora tries to put a lot of unsaid things in those two words, grasping Catra’s hand like it’s her own personal lifeline. In a way, it actually is.

Catra just looks at her for one, two seconds, and her cheeks light up with a pretty blush. She smiles toothily then, and Adora’s heartbeat stutters at the palpable adoration spilling from those brilliant, warm eyes. Catra squeezes her hand and draws near, stopping just short of Adora’s bubble, close enough that their bodies are a silver apart.

Adora watches, with barely repressed anticipation, as Catra’s eyes flutter shut and she tilts her head back. She leans down, closing the distance, to meet Catra in a delicate touch of lips. They slot together like puzzle pieces, the contact as bare and tender as can be, but at the same time heavy with a feeling so strong that makes Adora’s heart thud in her chest like a war drum.

Catra doesn’t ease back when they part, instead she moves even closer and brushes her nose to the apple of Adora’s cheek before hooking her chin over her shoulder. Adora latches onto her, hopeless and longing, one hand still grasping Catra’s while her other arm curls around her back. She can feel the vibration of Catra’s purr rise and echo into her own chest as her tail curls around their legs.

“Don’t mention it.”

She’s going to have to make it up to Bow and Glimmer, somehow. She wants to give them a big hug, apologise, and properly talk things out with them. Maybe they’ll manage to snag some cake, or brownies, or whatever sweet thing the Bright Moon chefs have been working on, and they’ll get to eat it all together in Adora and Catra’s room.

Adora doesn’t know many things. But, for now, standing in a grass field under the warm sunlight of a summer afternoon, holding the love of her life in her arms, Adora thinks that this may be okay.

That, for a moment, she can just be, and it will be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this far! This was new territory for me, I'm really not sure if I delved into these characters as well as they deserves to be handled and written, but I always have a lot of feelings about them and I just wanted to write something on the matter. Feel free to leave critics in the comments (if you want to leave one, that is), I absolutely wish to improve to do them and the wonderful world Noelle created justice.
> 
> I also have a [Tumblr](https://bannedd567.tumblr.com/) if you want to holler at me.


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